The Setting:
Late Friday night at Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island, Michigan, I couldn't
get this Carrie Bradshaw-like question out of my head: "How do
you replenish your soul, when opulence has become mundane?" It
was my second full day experiencing one of the world's most gorgeous
views -- the elegant Mackinac Bridge spanning the Straits -- from the
world's longest, most majestic porch; the second day of unlimited premium
liquor, jumbo shrimp, smoked salmon, oysters on the half-shell, sushi,
beef tenderloin, French cheeses; the second day of hovering deferential
servers indulging my every whim; the second day spent marveling at blue
skies and masses of the tallest pink, yellow, and red tulips, and the
sounds of chirping birds, waves lapping on the stony beach, and the
clip-clop of horses (no cars allowed in paradise). In such surroundings,
if one can resist the urge to petulantly play out a perverse sense of
entitlement, and instead give thanks for and focus on the blessed nature
of the experience, anything and everything seems possible: We can all
love each other! Together we can save the world!
The Situation:
The Leadership Conference on Mackinac, sponsored each year just after
Memorial Day by the Detroit Regional Chamber, attracts all of the state's
most influential political and business leaders, as well as national
figures. The days are packed with substantive sessions on issues ranging
from health care to global competitiveness, with the drinking, eating,
and musical entertainment (all thoughtfully provided by corporations
and lobbying concerns) carefully sandwiched between the policy events.
But, the business of real political accommodation does get done, often
in the proverbial smoke-filled rooms.
The Speaker:
On Saturday, the highlight for my purpose here was the appearance by
economist Richard Florida, famously the author of "The Rise of
the Creative Class," a book which provides much of the theory behind
Governor Jennifer Granholm's "Cool Cities" public-policy initiative.
Florida, whose book is rather dry with a surfeit of charts and graphs,
was in person a tremendously charismatic speaker: darkly handsome and
well-dressed Hollywood-style in a black suit with an open-collar white
shirt and shiny black shoes. He spoke without notes, working the stage
like a trouper, engaging the crowd with humorous banter, self-deprecating
jokes, and heartwarming personal stories. By the end of his pep talk,
the audience had melted into a blob of besotted enthusiasm. The possibility
for positive change in Michigan's sagging economy seemed real. In the
question and answer period, no one revealed opposition to Florida's
premise that the best way to promote economic growth and attract talented,
forward-thinking young people to cities is by providing them a diverse
assortment of lifestyle options. Everyone, whatever their party affiliation,
seemed to embrace the concept behind "Cool Cities."
The Theory:
What are Florida's points, and how do they relate to solving the problems
of Michigan's suffering cities? According to his book and as reiterated
at Mackinac, there is a new and ever growing "creative class"
which accounts for 30% of the workers in the United States. The phenomenon
is global, and these workers must be recognized as constituting "a
new mainstream," Florida says. Unlike workers in the past, they
are not interested in job security or a lifelong attachment to a single
company. They consider themselves "free agents." Their singular
importance to the new economy is their aptitude for solving complex
problems by thinking "outside the box," a talent Granholm
emphasized in her campaign as her own special strength. These types
of people matter, because they create new ideas and ways of getting
things done in technology, engineering, architecture and design, education,
and the arts. Florida asserts that the old ways of attracting businesses
and competent workers no longer apply: forget the incentive of tax breaks
and the fantasy of a return to an industrial-based economy. Cities,
and their larger regions, must attract this all-important class of workers
by providing something (almost) intangible that old-school cities with
traditional values cannot: an atmosphere saturated with acceptance for
a myriad of ethnic identities and lifestyle choices, a welcoming attitude
toward diversity of all sorts. To warrant consideration by these workers
as home bases, cities must allow them to feel free to be themselves.
There must be tolerance!
It is the availability of "multiple scenes," Florida claims,
in music, art, theatre, and technology, that attracts these creative
people to certain -- call them "cool" -- cities. Businesses
must be open late, because creative people have erratic work schedules,
often work alone at home, and they need a place where they can converse
with peers at odd hours. A variety of nightlife is, according to Florida,
"a signal that a city gets it." Another non-negotiable requirement
is a mass transit system, because young, creative people do not necessarily
have the means to acquire expensive automobiles. They do, however, need
easy access to places for recreational purposes, like hiking, biking,
and climbing.
Calculating Detroit's Coolness:
In a panel discussion among creative entrepreneurs after Florida's solo
talk, Phil Mason, a former automotive stylist and website designer,
now head of his own Detroit firm, said: "Detroit is strange. It's
a secret." Mason recounted problems getting talented workers to
commit to his company because of its location, claiming he's learned
"people who stay in Detroit are characters, they're a little bit
pissed." Another panelist, marketing expert Christina Lovio-George
who located her business to the Cass Corridor twenty years ago, spoke
similarly of Detroit's image problem, suggesting "we all need to
make converts about Detroit," and that "there are people with
pent-up energy anxious to reinvent Detroit." Jackie Victor, a self-described
"exiled suburbanite" and lesbian who founded the successful
Avalon International Breads at Willis and Cass in the inner city, related
being disturbed to learn that only two of her class of four-hundred
fifty graduates of Andover High School in Bloomfield Hills had relocated
to Detroit. Gov. Granholm's chief concern, and the reason for "Cool
Cities," is that young people are fleeing the state, believing
that cities like Detroit are not places where they can thrive and maintain
interesting lifestyles. "Detroit is an underserved community,"
Victor exhorted, where "anyone with a good product and respect
for their customers" can do well. She also testily warned the Republicans
in the audience that if they succeed in passing legislation that denies
the rights of citizenship to gays, and outlaws affirmative action or
its equivalent, she will not hesitate to move someplace more enlightened.
The Michigan Economic Development Corporation, under the "Cool
Cities" initiative, recently handed out grants of $100,000 each,
to seventeen different Michigan cities, specifically funding concerns
with possibilities for attracting young people back to the cities. Detroit
received three of the grants: one for Eastern Market, and one each for
projects on the east and southwest sides of town to renovate dilapidated
buildings for creative, multiuse purposes. In a separate session at
Mackinac, the "Big Four" regional leaders -- Republican Brooks
Patterson of Oakland County, Democrat Robert Ficano of Wayne County,
Nancy White of Macomb County, and Detroit Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick --
mostly lavished praise on "Cool Cities." Kilpatrick commented,
"The governor is leading an image change that is going to benefit
Detroit." The result of an audience poll about the coolest of the
region's cities was, however, this: 40% for Birmingham/Royal Oak; 27%
for Detroit; 26% for Ann Arbor. A more scientific poll of the region's
business executives by a public relations firm garnered similar results,
but with Northville in the running and Detroit in last place.
Richard Florida, however, sought at Mackinac to minimize competition
between cities in the metropolitan Detroit area. "I don't see the
differences," he said, "between Royal Oak, Birmingham, and
Detroit." (He doesn't live here, that much is clear!) His contention
was that what's important is that Detroit's "a great region, a
great federation of cities." That said, he opined that "Detroit
[itself] has the most creative potential" due to its rich musical
heritage. Florida is a music lover, and he places music -- and not simply
a local symphony orchestra -- at the top of his list of desirable attractions.
He waxed rhapsodic about Detroit's legendary music scene. Our musical
influence, he claimed, is very significant: "Detroit is huge."
He citied a litany of talent as proof -- Motown, house, and techno;
the MC5, Iggy Pop, the White Stripes, and the Von Bondies; Bob Seger
and Kid Rock; Eminem, 50 Cent, and D12.
While some of his fellow economists dispute Florida's theories, and
still advocate tax breaks rather than organic bakeries as incentives
to businesses who can then attract talented workers on their own, even
Detroit's conservative-minded weekly, "Crain's Detroit Business,"
did a major story by Brent Snavely in their June 7-13th issue, titled
"HipHope," which outlined how Detroit's music industry is
generating interest from around the world. The spotlight on our music,
Snavely writes, is an opportunity that "could translate into more
tourism and a better image for the city that in turn could draw highly
sought-after young professionals." Mayor Kilpatrick has played
a prominent (eponymous) role in the two Hip Hop Summits held in Detroit,
and Karen Dumas, director of Detroit's Cultural Affairs Department,
says of her plans to promote the city, "I can assure you music
has a front-row seat." By many measures, Detroit's music scene
is as influential as that of cities, such as Seattle, Austin, New Orleans,
and Nashville, more commonly considered cool destinations.
The Challenge:
At Mackinac, Florida said: "I don't think Detroit has that big
an image problem." Those of us who live here might disagree, and
it's possible he was attempting to flatter his audience since he also
claimed that Detroit is "the number one cool city" (what does
he tell audiences in Cleveland?) But say that Detroit CAN make a legitimate
case that it is an open, tolerant, and diverse city, and has many of
the "multiple scenes," especially in music, art, and alternative
theater, which Florida considers vital for attracting the "creative
class" and businesses. There is no denying, however, that the all-important
mass transit system-component is sadly missing, and is a major obstacle
to claiming coolness. More significantly, however, Florida also advised
us, up front, that he is an economist "and not a scholar of race
relations." Which begs the question: Is it possible to discuss
the future of Detroit without discussing the race issue?
Detroit is the most segregated city in the country, in the most segregated
state in the country. While Detroit is more than 85% African American,
Livonia, also in Wayne County, is the reverse. These points were brought
into the open at another of Mackinac's policy sessions, "Bridging
the Racial Divide: A Business Imperative," the first on the subject
in the twenty-four year history of the conference. Florida, himself,
remarked on the frankness with which the session played out, exemplified
by strident positions expressed by some participants, such as Emery
King and Devin Scillian of WDIV; these longtime friends of different
colors surprised each other with long suppressed thoughts on race. The
most startling to white listeners, was that most of the African Americans
on the panel consider a formal apology for slavery by the United States
government, and some form of subsequent reparations, to be a "foundation
issue," a non-negotiable demand which must be met before any progress
in race relations can ensue. This point was made: "You can't inherit
the benefits of white privilege without inheriting the responsibilities
as well." Detroit Free Press columnist, Rochelle Riley, said: "White
people need to say, 'Oops, we forgot to give you that forty acres and
a mule'," and then must forge a plan to remedy that broken promise.
In fact, the Detroit City Council has recently instituted a regulation
that requires all businesses vying for city contracts to reveal any
corporate history of involvement in the slave trade (research which
could involve scanning hundreds of years).
Apart from these difference, there are these facts: the drop-out rate
is more than 50% in Detroit's high schools, and the corresponding rate
of illiteracy in the city also approaches 50%. There is the high crime
rate, evidenced by the sixty-some multiple-victim shootings that occurred
in Detroit through May 31st of this year, as well as by the greatest
increase in homicides, during the same period, of any of the nation's
ten largest cities [according to the Detroit Free Press, June 4, 2004].
Nancy White, chair of the Macomb County Board of Commissioners, challenged
Mayor Kilpatrick in the "Big Four" session on the legitimacy
of Detroit's bad image, drawing an inaudible gasp from the audience
with the non-politically correct tone of her accusation, especially
since the charge seemed to come out of the blue. "It's the crime
issue. Detroit's number one isn't it?" Kilpatrick reacted to her
charge with indignation. "No, it's not number one!" he said
sharply, but then backtracked to acknowledge that the number of recent
murders was unacceptable, especially those involving children. But he
then blamed the media for misleading white people about the dangerous
nature of Detroit's streets, claiming it had hyped the crime-wave as
a drug-war, adding gratuitously: "You white people, you love your
drug wars!" This particular comment was subsequently played up
by the press, and characterized as oafishly insensitive as well as an
example of blacks assuming they have a pass on stereotyping whites while
the converse is never acceptable. The stranger thing to me about Kilpatrick's
comment is that a homicide investigator from the Detroit Police Department,
Lt. William Petersen, had, in the Detroit Free Press on June 4, 2004,
the day before Kilpatrick's accusation, already characterized the rash
of shootings as a manifestation of a Detroit drug war in progress.
The problem of the gap in income and education between residents of
Detroit and residents of the suburbs that surround it cannot be swept
under the carpet. It is a major challenge to declaring Detroit a "cool
city." It was pointed out in the panel on race that local businesses
have "no game plan, no commitment to helping those left behind
in the city center." And Mayor Kilpatrick, at the "Big Four"
session, claimed that Detroit has "the least amount of support
for the center city, by the metropolitan region, of any city in the
country." He made the strong assertion that "unless the center
city works, nothing else works." The polarity between the white
and black populations of the Detroit area has also played out recently
in the failure of the city's legislators to work with the governor to
implement an offer by a white businessman to donate millions of dollars
to improve Detroit schools, arguably because black Detroiters were unwilling
to allow the potential donor the oversight on his donation that was
a condition of his offer.
The Commitment:
Despite the single uncomfortable exchange between White and Kilpatrick,
the atmosphere at Mackinac reeked with optimism for the future of Detroit,
and there was all-round good natured support for the governor's "Cool
Cities" initiative. And consider, too, that Kilpatrick made this
remark at the close of the "Big Four" meeting: "I saw
Brooks Patterson at a NAACP meeting yesterday [on the island] and I
thought hell was freezing over!" Which got a huge laugh from persons
in the crowd of all colors and political persuasions.
A survey by John Bailey and Associates of two-hundred and five senior-level
executives, members of the Detroit Regional Chamber, reveals that 94.6%
of the respondents "believe that redevelopment of Michigan's urban
centers is an important public policy issue for state and local governments."
In addition, there appears to be a commitment to working together for
change: 96.6% of respondents "say it is necessary for local governments
to cooperate more on regional governance of public services." And
Florida's theory appears to have had great impact, since 97% "believe
that the creation of vibrant urban neighborhoods in Southeast Michigan
that appeal to young, creative professionals will help metro Detroit
compete with other cities in the nation for the best and brightest employees."
On the negative side, however, 61% "believe that race is a factor
that has impeded regional cooperation between the city of Detroit and
suburban governments."
Democrat Robert Ficano, Wayne County Executive, in a sort of mea culpa,
submitted that it might be the case that politicians are lagging behind
their constituents in getting on with the business of ripping down metaphorical
walls between the city and its suburbs. "People in the region cross
county and city lines to work, worship, and for entertainment purposes,"
he said. So politicians, he suggested, "should catch-up with the
people we represent." And in his Sunday, June 20th column, Ron
Dzwonkowski, editor of the Detroit Free Press editorial page, emphatically
threw his hat in the "Cool Cities" ring. Dzwonkowski dismissed
opposition from conservative quarters, remarking that "making a
community inviting to educated young adults involves a certain amount
of risk to the local 'establishment.' It changes things in ways that
may not be comfortable. It can alter a community's rhythms. It can mean
noise and lights burning into the night where there was peaceful darkness
before. . . . If that is appalling to your community, young people will
sense that message and take their energy and money elsewhere."
Like Ficano, Dzwonkowki castigates resistant politicians and stodgy
business leaders for their negativity and recalcitrance. He warns them
that "turning your town into one of the 'cool cities' may take
an attitude adjustment." It appears, however, that those needing
to adjust their attitudes about Florida's "Creative Class"
theory, and Gov. Granholm's "Cool Cities" initiative, are
in the minority, if the vibe at the Leadership Conference was any indication.
Coming together for the good of our state, our region, and our city
will not be easy, but the path has been cleared, so with my apologies
to Spike Lee, I suggest we all just "get on the bus!" (No
light rail yet, but maybe soon, if we work at it . . .)
Chris Hill teaches art history at College for Creative Studies,
Wayne State University and Wayne County Community College. Her Master’s
thesis concerned the work of Cass Corridor Artist Brenda Goodman.